#The problem with that is that I rarely dream
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI ⭑.ᐟ A SERENE CELEBRATION, MERRY CHRISTMAS
A younger Bakugou Katsuki had always been certain of his future. At 26, he’d be a man with it all: a nice house, a career as the undisputed Number One Hero, happily married, and maybe, just maybe, a little brat on the way. That was the dream his teenage self clung to—the vision he worked tirelessly to acheive.
At 26, Bakugou stood in the middle of your shared apartment, arms crossed and staring at the half-decorated Christmas tree with a deep scowl. Strings of golden lights glimmered around the tree’s branches, lengths of ribbons are accompanied by shimmering with faux flowers, and ornaments—carefully chosen by you—hung delicately in place.
The problem? The color scheme.
“What’s wrong with red and gold?”
“It’s boring,” Bakugou grumbled. “We do red and gold every year.”
“It’s classic!” you argued, turning to face him fully. “And it matches the rest of the apartment’s decor!”
He narrowed his eyes. He could not believe that he’s having this conversation with you right now.
“We could try something new for once. Like silver and blue.”
You gasped, clutching an ornament like he’d just insulted you personally—even cursed your entire bloodline and ancestors. “Silver and blue? Are you trying to make our tree look like a corporate lobby?”
“It’d look cooler than this,” he shot back, gesturing vaguely at the warm-toned ornaments. “This looks like something out of a cheesy holiday catalog.”
“And what’s wrong with cheesy?” you challenged.
Bakugou opened his mouth, then closed it. He didn’t actually have anything against cheesy—hell, he secretly loved how excited you got during the holidays. But arguing about it? That was part of the fun, if not a branch of his quality time as a love language.
“Whatever,” he muttered, grabbing a red bauble and hanging it perfectly on the tree. “You’re just scared to try something new.”
You laughed, walking over with another ornament to decorate with. “And you’re just scared because I’m right.”
As Bakugou worked to string the lights around the higher branches, you began unpacking the remaining ornaments from your storage box. You pulled out a small, slightly worn ornament in the shape of a star and held it up with a nostalgic smile.
“Do you remember this?”
He glanced down from the tree, frowning at the star in your hand. “Should I?”
No matter how much he tries to remember, he simply couldn’t recall what made this star so special that you had to ask him if he remembers it.
It’s a star, that’s for sure. A faded one at that.
You sighed, clearly unimpressed by his lack of sentimentality. “It’s the first ornament we bought together. Back when we were... what, eighteen?”
Bakugou paused. It had been a spur-of-the-moment purchase during a rare day off from hero training.
You had somehow convinced him to go with you to wander around a Christmas market, bickering over everything from what food stalls to visit to what decorations looked “cool.” You had insisted on the star, and Bakugou—reluctantly—agreed after a heated argument about which shape of star’s better.
“Are you having a flashback monologue right now?”
That brought out a scoff from him. “Fuck no. Just remembered how you were annoying as hell that day,” he muttered.
“And you were so stubborn, god. You kept saying it was pointless to buy an ornament because I didn’t even have a tree back in my dorm.”
“Yeah, and you said, ‘It's not about the tree; it's about the tradition.’ What kinda cheesy crap was that?”
“It's true, though!” you argued, accepting his hand to place the star gently on the tree’s highest branch. “And now, look. We still have it. And now we can buy all the Christmas trees we could ever want.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
As you continued decorating, the sound of your laughter and playful arguments filled the apartment, giving it a cozy home feel. By the time the tree was finished, Bakugou begrudgingly admitted to himself that it didn’t look half bad—even if it was the same colors as last year, though a decent fortune was spent for it to not be too repetitive.
It’s a good thing his work pays well (you split the cost of decorations equally; he just says that his work pays better even if yours is a lot higher than his).
You stepped back, admiring your work with a satisfied smile. “Perfect. Now, onto the Christmas Eve menu. I was thinking we could do something light this year—maybe roasted chicken and a salad?”
Bakugou groaned, collapsing onto the couch. “Salad? On Christmas Eve? No fucking way.”
“What’s wrong with salad?”
“Is your childhood a bland mess to have salad as one of the main foods? It’s boring,” he said, sticking his tongue out at you when you gave him a pointed look. “We should make something warm and filling.”
“Okay, but you’re helping.”
“Since when did I ever leave all the cookin’ to you?”
Now that he’s 26, standing in the modest yet cozy apartment he shares with you, he realizes that dreams don’t always come in the exact shape you imagine.
Sure, he doesn’t have the massive house he once envisioned, but this apartment—filled with laughter, memories, and the faint scent of your favorite candles—is more of a home than anything his younger self could have dreamed up. The framed photos of your milestones, the shelves of books, and even a few of his hero equipment with the tools scattered on his office—it’s all perfect in a way he didn’t know he needed.
And his career? Well, Dynamight isn’t the Number One Hero yet, but he’s close. Close enough that his younger self would sneer but grudgingly admit it’s not bad.
He’s built a solid name for himself, and he’s done it his way. His rank might not be where he wanted it to be at this age, but he’s learned something more valuable than being the best—he’s learned the importance of balance.
The last part of that dream? The wife? He looks toward the kitchen, where you’re humming some off-tune melody, beginning to prepare what Bakugou’s about to cook with for dinner. The sight of you, so comfortable and almost glowing in your shared space, makes his chest tighten.
He must have a heart problem by this point because it comes at him at the most unexpected times whenever he sees you.
No, he doesn’t have a wife yet. But he’s about to change that.
He’s been thinking about it for weeks now.
He’s got the ring—it’s hidden in the drawer under his socks, where he knows you won’t go snooping.
He knows you’ll say yes, but he would be damned if he didn’t admit that it made him a bit nervous. He knows because you look at him the same way he looks at you: like the world would become lighter and easier to conquer as long as you have the other.
But still, he waits.
Not because he’s unsure, but because he wants the timing to be perfect. Not rushed, not forced. He’s learned to be patient over the years.
“Kats, help with cutting the onions, please!”
“Yeah, yeah. Comin’!”
Soon, he’ll drop the question. He’s not in a rush. This is your life together, and it’s not perfect, but it is just right—chaotic, loud, and full of love. And when the time comes, he’ll make sure you know just how much you mean to him.
But you already know that, don’t you?
SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
#‹𝟹 𓏲🗒️ꜝֶָ֢ ʾʾ#bakugo x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n#bakugou fluff#bakugou drabble#bakugou x reader#bakugo drabble#bakugo fluff#bnha x reader#bnha fluff#bnha drabble#mha x reader#mha fluff#mha drabbles#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha bakugou#mha bakugou
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“so what?” ace says defensively. “mind your own business. deuce is his own person — it’s not like i’m forcing him to do this.”
riddle clenches his fist. reminds himself that it won’t be smart to get angry. “deuce said it was because he didn’t want to cause problems. whether you meant to or not, you coerced him into working himself to the bone because he didn’t want to bother you.”
“and? that was his choice.” ace steps back towards his room, face stone-cold.
(for whatever reason, ace's frosty, unforgiving expression brings to mind a memory from what feels like years ago.
an image of ace, holding a hodgepodge of hedgehogs in his arms, laughing as the perfect day glimmers behind him, smiling at riddle in a rare moment of earnestness, flashes across riddle's eyes.
back then, riddle had thought: this is must be what true happiness feels like.)
“he’s still a child, ace.” riddle spits back through tight lips. “he’s impressionable. you can’t just pressure him into doing nothing but study and expect that to end well.”
“look, if he doesn’t get it up into high gear now, he might actually flunk out of school.” ace explains, crossing his arms. “i’m trying to help him out here. figured you of all people would understand “tough love”, housewarden.”
strawberry tarts glistening in the store window like forbidden jewels. books stacked all around him like the bars of a cage. the garden outside but a distant dream. the woman in the doorway, smiling down at her perfect trophy.
the boy standing in front of his housewarden, looking at him like he’s all that’s wrong with the world, just like riddle did in his first week at night raven college.
“he and i came here experiencing the same thing, y’know?” ace says, sneering. “we tried to indulge you because cater and trey told us it was the right thing to do. how is it my fault deuce hasn’t broken out of that mindset yet?”
riddle grits his teeth. “even still, that’s no excuse to exploit it.”
he loved you, he thinks. and you’ve used that love against him.
(much like he did with trey, he supposes.)
“maybe not.” ace concedes with a shrug of his shoulders. then, because he’s not done tormenting riddle, he puts on a snarky grin. “but hey. i’m a child. i’m impressionable. you can’t just put a collar on me and expect that to end well.”
and that burns. embarrassment and shame and frustration and misery — in equal measure, all at once.
and it all burns inside of riddle, flames lapping at the broken boy inside of him that screams for his mother to forgive him.
ace turns away and walks back into his bedroom with a two-fingered salute. “if that's all you have to say, i'm turning in. g’night, housewarden.”
I am in dire need of more of that AU that The First years get The upperclassmen toxic traits,i realy want more of It,like;
A way to include octavinelle and scarabia,maybe like,3 First years(Ace,deuce,Jack) get some of azul's toxic traits,other Three(epel,ortho and sebek) get Jamil toxic traits and yuu get both
Second thing
More reactings please,i NEED The staff,ALL The dorms and even the relatives seeing The First years developing those toxic traits,the overblots+Trey and cater for deuce getting their toxic traits right back at their face i beg you🙏🙏
anything 4 u, baby.
(but for real, though, this is an AMAZING idea, love you so much for tilling the ground for my brainwormies, mwah mwah 😘)
(also, this might get REALLY long, so hang tight!)
it was just a seed at first — a tiny idea that stuck around despite the first-years not even realizing it was there. but as the poison from their actual housewardens starts to develop into something truly deadly, so does that seed. it shows up later... but it makes itself known nevertheless.
ace, deuce, and jack have all worked for azul at the mostro lounge at one point, and though it was a very brief moment in time, it was just long enough to worm its way into their heads.
it starts with ace trappola, who's already pretty slippery with his words. but working at the mostro lounge, taking subconscious note of all the underhanded deals azul is making, he starts to pick up new... skills, let's say.
it starts small, with ace starting to give out certain favors to his fellow freshmen to earn some money. if you give him ten thaumarks, he'll do one of your everyday chores for you — dusting your room, cleaning your bathroom, making dinner, what have you. if you give him fifteen thaumarks, he'll do your homework if you don't feel like doing it, or take class notes for you if you don't feel like showing up. if you give him forty, he'll help you with something less-than-moral and definitely against the rules (he did it once back at the atlantica memorial museum — he can do it again).
there's an obvious power imbalance in all of these scenarios, but ace effortlessly words in a way that makes it seem like it's a win-win situation, when in reality, it's more like a zero-sum game.
it gets to the point where ace builds a black-market sort of reputation, and all of the freshmen know that if you need something done, ace is the person to go to.
...but then, something shifts.
at some point, ace starts a black-mailing campaign for the people who paid for the forty-thaumark favor. if you don't want your secret — one that might get you expelled, suspended, or worse — getting out, then you can pay for ace's silence with a favor or more money.
the worst part is: there's no way out. if you try attacking ace, it'll seem like you assaulted him for no reason, since if you try to explain he was blackmailing you, you'll have to tell them what he was blackmailing you with, which you obviously can't do — or else what was even the point? the same rule applies if you try tattling on him to one of the teachers or the housewardens or anybody else. and ace is a better liar than most people will ever be in their lifetime, so it's a losing battle even if you do manage to get someone to take your side.
so if you want to cross the bridge, my sweet, you've got to pay the toll.
(it's not even about the money anymore, really. riddle's thirst for control and azul's desire for recognition have clashed inside of ace in the most violent way, and now, it's all about the power it gives him over other people. and after how powerless he's felt this entire school year, being thrown left and right by overblot after overblot with no say at all, this is a power trip he never wants to come back down from.)
but ace realizes he's making quite a few enemies with his little money-making strategy, and he needs someone to help him just in case someone does come up with a plan to wipe him out. i mean, just look at azul — even with all of the loopholes and leverages in the world, even he was taken down eventually without outside help. if he wants this to last as long as possible, he needs... incentive for people to listen to him.
his own jade and floyd.
his own red-and-black collar.
using his riddle rosehearts-born dominance, and taking advantage of deuce's trey-and-cater-born passiveness, ace convinces deuce spade — one of the strongest people he knows — to help him in his economic ventures.
and deuce, seeing this as a way for ace to vent some frustration and unwilling to be on the other end of ace's ire, hesitantly agrees.
he doesn't piece together that ace is acting suspiciously like azul, but he still recognizes his own role in this whole scheme. ace is running a business, right? and deuce has only ever worked in one business before. he remembers what jade and floyd were like back when he worked under them, and so he uses that experience to inform his new position.
deuce becomes known as ace's right-hand man. he'll hunt you down if you don't pay, and he's not afraid to use force to "compel" you to. there have been stories about cat beastmen getting thrown up into trees and being left there for hours. about students getting forks "accidentally" thrown at them in the cafeteria with such precision, it doesn't really feel like an accident. about a student with a spade on his face who can throw back any attack sent his way with just as much force.
and there's nothing you can do about it, because he's in service to someone who has made himself pretty powerful. ace's silver-tongue gets deuce out of any and all trouble he inevitably finds himself in — and is ace is so brutally honest, why wouldn't people believe him? so even if you try to do something to deuce, ace has his back no matter what — and he'll win almost every time.
you mess with deuce, you mess with ace, which is already bad enough. but if you fuck around with ace, you better be prepared to find out with deuce.
they're a pair — that's always been true. but never before has that fact been so threatening.
jack howl comes next. we all know how much jack despises octavinelle's business model. but, begrudgingly, he will admit there are a lot of things he can learn from octavinelle. and more knowledge is never bad. as long as he doesn't actually use it, it should be fine.
(jack is more dangerous than ace and deuce, in a way — his toxicity is insidious in a way it just couldn't ever be with them.)
with excellent hearing, eyesight, and memory, he silently keeps note of every bribe he hears being taken. every lie he knows is being told. every mistake that gets swept under the rug. it's not long before he starts actively looking for it. it's not long before jack's uncovered dirt on almost every freshmen in school. it reminds him a bit of his time working at the mostro lounge. but instead of memorizing orders from customers, he's memorizing all their dirty secrets.
it's to protect himself, jack reasons. after all, it was only his input that put a stop to leona and ruggie's plans back during the spelldrive exhibition. he's just... preparing for another disastrous event, that's all. it's just precaution. insurance.
if it's not, then he'll have to accept that leona's overblot bothered him more than he thought. that he was weak enough to let it.
(and jack can't face that yet.)
and if, once in a while, ace comes to him looking for a little bit of information, then well, that's just lending a friend some advice. nothing wrong with that.
epel, ortho, and sebek don't have any direct ties to jamil, but they are certainly... impressionable, aren't they?
sebek zigvolt is a bit dense, certainly, but even he can see how well jamil takes care of his master. and with a master that's as ditzy and forgetful and all-over-the-place as kalim, that can't be easy. even if they are merely humans, and their experiences can't even begin to compare when it comes to serving a fae prince, sebek reckons that he can learn a thing or two by observing them. so that's exactly what he does.
one day, when kalim spills food on the floor in a hilariously ridiculous move, sebek notices something few others ever would. jamil gives the tiniest twitch of annoyance — the same way silver, in all his stoicism, often does when sebek gets too loud — but then he's back to being perfectly dutiful and polite and says "i'll go get a napkin."
it's... admirable, honestly. sebek doesn't put it into practice right away, but it stays in his mind long after he first sees it.
and then, after malleus's overblot, sebek's emotions feel like they're on fire. after being stuck in a world where it took just the tiniest crack to shatter a perfect illusion, he's wary of nearly everything that disrupts his day. now every single slight against him, no matter how unintentional it may be, feels like a personal attack on his very life. but sebek can't show these ugly emotions so outwardly — that would be dishonorable behavior that could damage malleus's reputation. instead, he resorts to subtle methods that can't be easily traced back to him like putting in frogs in schoolbags and setting brooms on fire or replacing shampoo bottles with tar.
but his repressed feelings of anger start to build to the point where he's now feeling unprecedented resentment towards... well, almost everybody.
when sebek has very first negative thought about malleus in history class — "reckless bastard" — he instantly hates himself for it and throws up then and there because how dare he.
he tries to shut them out, but the more he does, the more these intrusive thoughts start to bombard him with their uncharacteristic cynicism.
he looks at lilia from across the breakfast table, and his first thought is: heartless liar.
he spots leona lying in the botanical garden and he thinks: brainless cretin.
he even sees jamil, walking through the halls, and his mind screams: manipulative bitch.
but sebek shoves it all down because he's in no position to say that. it gets to the point where he's walking around as a silent, unfeeling husk, because to be anything else would be like inviting his inner demons to visit him on the outside. he pushes his emotions down as far as they'll go, and that's just going to have to be enough to get him through the day.
ortho shroud begins to follow a similar principle. his idia-inspired pessimism has led ortho to see others as less like people and more like characters. it's easier to think of every school day as a dungeon in an rpg. it's easier to convince himself that the other students are taunting him because they're programmed to be that way than face the reality that they just don't like him.
but the problem with seeing life as a video game is that you start seeing others as just ways to complete your objectives. like npcs or maps.
and when it comes to using people, jamil viper is king. or, for ortho's purposes, the ultimate survival guide.
ortho shapes himself into a model night raven college student — kind, charming, and sweet for the teachers, but just mischievous and rude enough to still fit in with the students.
he goes to housewarden meetings with idia to "gain leadership experience", taking notes and hearing out of every single little idea he can get his hands on (these are the people who have not just survived, but thrived. they must be doing something right). one time, riddle even pats his head and praises him for his proactiveness.
his classmates adore him for always been willing to help and being so calm about even the worst outcomes.
ortho makes himself as available as possible to the rest of ignihyde, brushing off homework or studying to help them with whatever they need — fixing game consoles, wiring in controllers, checking the internet connection, et cetera.
eventually, everyone believes in him almost as fiercely as scarabia believed in jamil, once upon a time.
ortho doesn't like telling all of these lies, but it's necessary to protect himself. it's like grinding to earn coins until you have enough money to buy that special armor in the shopkeeper's store.
...or maybe it's more like those cheesy dress-up flash games ortho used to play all the time — fleshing out the perfect outfit and hairstyle and makeup that'll earn you the most points.
if people feel like they need him, he'll be able to breeze through school without any more problems. he's put the whole system on easy mode! it feels a bit like cheating, almost.
it is like a game, isn't it? it's fun.
(at some point, ortho forgets how to stop.)
as for epel... well, he knows that his sudden snappish behavior towards the other pomefiore students won't go unnoticed for too long. but this is one of his only ways of venting, so he needs it to go under the radar long enough for him to... to squeeze out all of this sudden venom that's built up in him.
epel's not oblivious. he knows how sebek and ortho have changed over the weeks, and he knows why. but epel can't pull off "repressed" like sebek, and neither can he suddenly turn into the best person ever like ortho. but they do have the right idea about taking inspiration from jamil, so epel can fall back on what there is left: gaslighting.
every time kalim blacked out, jamil blamed it on him being sick. every time someone thought kalim was being awfully uncharacteristic, jamil called it a "mood swing". every time someone asked jamil about why kalim was acting so weird, jamil claimed ignorance.
at least, that's what yuu tells epel.
and it's perfect.
so now, every time someone confronts epel about his overly critical behavior, he lies and says he's doing it for their own good. you need pressure to make a diamond, after all. and besides — vil won't settle for anything less than absolutely perfect.
("i'm just trying to catch your mistakes before he does. and i think you and i can both agree that i'm a lot nicer than he is about it.")
every time vil confronts epel about all of the complaints he's been hearing from the other students about how epel's been tearing down their ideas for outfits and hairstyles with no mercy, and disregarding all of their achievements as "not good enough" to be proud over, epel dons a confused face.
("vil, between studying for tests and the crazy physical regiment you have me do, i barely have time for myself. you honestly think i have the energy to criticize other people?")
epel even starts turning people against each other so they won't focus on him. epel subtly threatens to take away the upperclassmen's position in the hierarchy, which sets up the other underclassmen as a threat, and epel grouses to the underclassmen that the upperclassmen look down on them for not living up to pomefiore standards, under the guise of regular teenage bitching.
but all of this, combined with their self-entitlement, leads to a mini-war in pomefiore. but since this is, well, pomefiore, where being perfect and poised is the standard, the others make sure never make it obvious in front of vil or rook.
epel plays everybody like a fiddle, and ensures that none of it can be traced back to him. it's a good way to get out his frustration. and hey — it seems like everybody's upped their game along the way. vil seems pretty happy that everybody's improving in their efforts so greatly, practically overnight!
epel wakes up with a feeling of accomplishment everyday. for once, it seems he did something right.
now if only rook could stop looking so somber...
then we come to yuu, whose inner darkness has been left to fester all year. if people think they can treat them like a ragdoll, it's only fair they do the same.
there's a lot yuu doesn't have, but one thing they're really lacking is a bit of respect. that's what it means to be magicless in an arcane academy. you're at the bottom of the food chain.
and look at what a bit of self-interest can do for you! yuu studies in the library until late into the night, burning the metaphorical candle at both ends, learning everything they can about magic until they're more well-versed in it than most students in the school. yuu starts making potions that aren't nearly as good as azul's, but they're cheap and work well enough. they start making study guides for others with their new-found knowledge, even if they do bristle with the fact that a damned study guide is what caught them in azul's tentacles in the first place. they start learning anything and everything, clinging to whatever scraps of knowledge they can write down.
with this, they successfully make their case for why they should join ace and deuce's business. eventually, they're just as feared as they are among the other first-years.
but that's not enough for yuu. the power of fear is nice, but the power of controlling other people would be much more cathartic.
so that's what they do. while ace is more focused on monetary gain, yuu uses their mountains of blackmail to convince others to do whatever they want.
if crowley throws another ridiculous task at them, yuu simply hoists it off to somebody else to do. if ramshackle dorm needs a few repairs, it's only a matter of contacting a few people before a whole construction crew paid off by somebody else comes knocking at their door. and they'll do it, if they don't want to get kicked out of the school or have their reputation ruined.
but somehow, even with all of this, yuu sets themself up as the nicest out of their little trio. they're willing to let payments slide from time to time. they listen to their clients' problems. they take constructive criticism and always seem to improve in their potions and study guides based on feedback. and if you do do yuu a favor, they'll give you certain favors right back.
so even when yuu is a covetous, greedy, all-consuming shark, the students still think they're so very, very nice. because compared to ace and deuce, what else is there to think?
but this can only go on for so long. and yuu knows that.
one day, they get called to the headmage's office. yuu is already going through their contact list — a list that's quadrupled ever since they joined forces with ace and deuce — to see who'd be willing to do them a teensy little favor for them, but when they step through the door, they pause.
inside the office are all the housewardens, their vices, the teachers, and everybody else yuu has grown to know over the past year.
yuu narrows their eyes as riddle steps forward.
"yuu," riddle starts sternly, "from one housewarden to another, i believe we need to talk."
^
(i will address everyone's reactions in a reblog, because this is honestly getting really, really long, lol. but don't worry, the reactions are coming! 🥺)
(but i should mention that there is already a good reblog of the original post by @thenumberhuntress which addresses the upperclassmen's reactions that you can find here. go read it. it's peak.)
(once again, thank you for the great ask! this was fun to make!)
#anything 4 u baby#twisted wonderland#twst#twst first years#riddle rosehearts#ace trappola#generational trauma#deuce spade#(mentioned)
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Had another dream thought The both of you might want to know about it
@mae-mae-me & @elithemiar-blog
Peter in the compound with a very sleepy Wulf in his lap I see pets it while doing his physics homework Tony walks in and stares at the wolf that is glowing green in Peter's lap and immediately panics
Tony very nervously: Peter why is there a glowing wolf in your lap?
Peter looking up from his homework confused for about 3 seconds before he makes a face and realization and says: Oh that's Wulf spelled with a u
Tony: Okay cool Why is Wulf in your lap?
Peter: He was sleepy and wanted to hang out
Tony: How did he get here without setting off any alarms
Peter: Oh will he opened it a portal through dimensions and the reason you weren't alerted was because I told Friday he was a friend
Tony: He's your friend? How?
Peter: I became friends with the death God
Tony: I'm sorry you what?
And then it cuts over to shuri making an amalgamated abomination of what looks to be a plasma sword for Peter
Peter deadpan: Met interdimensional wolf on a mission tried to get him back to his owner met God became friends with God
Tony: hUh-?
Peter: Just smiling walk away Tony. It's better for your sanity. Oh and don't going to the other part of the lab shuri's making something beyond our mortal minds
#danny phantom#dp#dp x marvel#dp wulf#tony stark#peter parker#the avengers#marvel mcu#avengers compound#dreams#dude I have some really great fanfic ideas they're all just stuck in my dreams#The problem with that is that I rarely dream#anyway OPs I hope you like it#black panther#princess shuri#shuri of wakanda#black panther wakanda forever#wakandans#Mooblyboom's weird ass dreams
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i hate that i can slowly feel the dsmp lore knowledge leaking from my brain. STAY IN THERE!!!! most unrewatchable media ever juet stay in my brain. (this post is abt mostly everyone not ctommy related bc i still fuckin enjoy them as a character but not ctommy not my problem (ctommy autism )) (like cbad cantfrost cpuffy channah cniki cjack cponk cfoolish csapnap i can feel my knowledge of u leaving plss stay in my brain pretty please i still love u)
#dsmp lore special interest#gahhh i like feel like ik dvery little crevice of the dsmpmlore bc ive watched like. all of it. from post red festival ive watched every#thing or if i didnt watch it (rare) i read over a summary or something#i care abt these characters so much. the dsmp worldbuilding is my everything#i say not ctommy not my problem but its not rllyy true i care abt all the other c!fellas.#dsmp lore#do not support dream or majority of dsmp ccs#ive been a cdiscduo main for a while but thawt does not mean i have not autismed qbt every other character at least once before
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wish you could pair certain songs in a playlist. like I want this group of 50 songs on shuffle but these two must follow each other otherwise the transitions sound stupid
#I suppose I could do the work of actually smashing them together into one track in an audio program but that's.. so much work#this is about the hellion and electric eye by judas priest btw#also about wait for sleep and learning to live by dream theatre they are one song in my heart#honestly a huge part why I rarely do playlists.. entire album on repeat supremacy#I'm also still using the most ancient version of itunes and an ipod from 2015 though so maybe this is a me problem#rae rambles
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Tag drop: Solas
#[ solas: ic. ] the dread wolf inspired hope in my friends and fear in my enemies. not unlike “inquisitor” i suppose.#[ solas: inquiries. ] let me help you. / you cannot. there is no glory here. only a price that i alone will pay.#[ solas: countenance. ] i was solas first. “fen'harel” came later. an insult i took as as a badge of honor.#[ solas: introspection. ] war breeds fear. fear breeds a desire for simplicity. good and evil. right or wrong. chains of command.#[ solas: meta. ] just remember; an enemy can attack but only an ally can betray you. betrayal is always worse.#[ solas: etc. ] i have people; seeker. the greatest triumphs and tragedies this world has known can all be traced to people.#[ solas: mythal. ] they killed her. a crime for which an eternity of torment is the only fitting punishment.#[ solas: elvhenan. ] imagine beings who lived forever for whom magic was as natural as breathing. that is what was lost.#[ solas: fade. ] everything is a memory; they are easily muddied. they contain truths but reason and sense are required to extract it.#[ solas: skyhold. ] there is a place that waits for a force to hold it. there is a place where the inquisition can build… grow.#[ solas: inquisition. ] you created a powerful organization. and now it suffers the inevitable fate of such; betrayal and corruption.#[ solas: inquisitor. ] you hold the key to our salvation. you had sealed it with a gesture; and then i felt the whole world change.#[ solas: vhenan. ] you have a rare and marvelous spirit. in another world— / why not this one? / i can't.#[ solas: dorian. ] is that a problem for you? / no. no. you're a special and unique snowflake. live the dream.#[ solas: varric. ] you know what i like about you? your boundless optimism. / it's comforting that what qualities i lack; you invent.#[ solas: cassandra. ] i am impressed by your honesty and faith. it is a difficult path; but if anyone can walk it honourably. you can.#[ solas: cole. ] never forget your purpose; cole. it is a noble one. even if this world does not understand.#[ solas: vivienne. ] i leave you with the greatest curse of my people. dirthara ma. / what rustic curse is that? / 'may you learn.'#[ solas: blackwall. ] you have seen a great deal of battle. / we all have. / not like you. you live and breathe war. it's home to you.#[ solas: sera. ] i suppose now you’ll switch to how i’m the same but different? / you are the furthest from what you were meant to be.#[ solas: bull. ] what you think is what you say and do. / even peasants may find freedom in the safety of thought; you take even that.#tag drop#[ solas. ] to the people i was fen'harel. to my enemies i was the dread wolf. but i was neither. i was just solas.
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my sibling just tripped and i said 'god bless you ?????' like they sneezed or something ??
#just me hi#??? hfvbshf#i thought i was saying 'are you good?' but nope hfvbhsf#though i dunno why but i Do sometimes say god bless you to loud noises loll#//anyway oh my lllooroddssss why is sleep so awful bhvfsh#i sleep for six hours and i'm still kinda tired but that's it that's the Peak#if i sleep for any longer i think i start to decompose or something fffffhhdvc#like this SUCKS man whyyy hvfbs#also it's Extra Dumb because i'll start dreaming and just never wake up bc i HAVE to stay. for the Plot#cool tho bc i Did get to the end of my dream last night which is quite rare so !! :D#i do not remember it tho. but i am still satisfied about it lol :>#/but really sleeping is just Awful fvsh#and i have Tried to fix my sleeping schedule but ouaaghhfff it's a fight out here lmaoo#cuz i end up Storing energy until late at night and then i'm up until 4 a.m. again and oops there it goes again !#i dunno hfh#i'm having hardware problems that are exacerbated by the software that's all i know lol :)#//anywayyy so i've been tryna work on that little lore book (slow work cuz the sleep got worse recently HrghB) and i got stopped short @#chapter 2 bc i don't think i have a lot on the gods ??#okay wait yeah i think i do#i just started going for a sec in the tags i think i do actually#i just gotta. uhhh reformat some stuff lmao :3#so be back perhaps !!! oooo [<- ghost noise]
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..... After playing the new Baxter Dlc for Our Life I don't think this will be a purely Obey Me blog...
Listen I ALWAYS loved Cove, but I played Our Life before making this blog! Now that I've played the Baxter Dlc I'm itching to write something for him! And Cove to!
#granted this wouldnt become a spilt blog#my main focus has been and will always be Obey Me on this blog#i just mignt write a handful of things for Our Life#listen Baxter is too much of a brat for me NOT to#hmmmm. i saw someone in the Our Life tag mention poly Mc/Baxter/Cove and i cant get the thought of my mind#not me day dreaming about a fic on how that would go...#maybe Cove finally realizes his feelings for Mc when Baxter moves in... while also being drawn to Baxter#Baxter noticing that Cove likes Mc and tries to take a step back. believing that they would be the better couple#but Mc doesnt let him. they firmly grasp onto both Cove and Baxter and refuse to let either of them go#so the three spend three months dancing around each other and never quite admiting your feelings for each other#which i know is rare for Baxter but he truly believes that he would only get in the way of your and Cove's relationship so he tries to#distance himself. and Cove has low key abandonment issues so THAT causes Problems. and Mc is stubborn and doesnt give up easily#then during Baxter's last day the three of you end up all making out. maybe drunky? idk. havent hashed out the details yet. and when you#and cove wake up Baxter is GONE because he panicked. and doesnt reply to your or Cove's texts for five years until you and cove see him#again when youre planning Scott and Jude's wedding.#so uh. yeah. sorry for the ramble but thats the basic idea lol.
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little known fact abt most don merch creators is if you show them any screenshot of him from the anime the brown will make their brains factory reset
#skye's ramblings#currently my biggest dream is to own a piece of don merch that isn’t horrifically whitewashed <3#its like. genuinely frustrating to find don merch (already really fucken rare) that would be sooo good otherwise. iwant my little guy#theres a point where its like cmon man thats not even don anymore. try again you dork-ass loser#tbh this goes for phil too. i would say all other characters of color too if. merch of them actually existed#ok theres definitely krone merch. but given the um. problems. with her appearance in canon i can deduce it is probably not very good <3#soooo hard to be a nonwhite anime fan. iam gods strongest soldier
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I was on the wikipedia page for phobias just for fun but just discovered theres an actual word for a fear of being touched.. 🥹
#haphephobia.... and they list guts from berserk under pop culture references 😢😢😭😭 thats my guy....#not gonna lie i teared up a bit i didnt realise it 'counted' as an actual phobia#i find it really difficult to talk abt but i have a complicated relationship w touch/physical contact (likely trauma babeyy)#and while i do crave it a lot i also have a very physical reflexive fear response especially if its intentional + i dont expect it#which can sometimes even get triggered just being in proximity to ppl bc like. even the possibility sets me on fucking edge#it would be nice to be as physically affectionate as i naturally want to be without dealing w my fight/flight/freeze but alas#its weird bc there are some random situations where it doesnt get triggered at all but its so unpredictable every time#and varies wildly person to person for seemingly no reason. there r strangers im innately more comfortable with but also friends ive known#for years and will never be comfortable around. i think part of that depends on how strongly the other person communicates and whether-#i feel as if theyre demonstrably able to respect boundaries not just mine but their own too + understand theyre not always fixed#ideally i need to have had this conversation with them so i Know they understand. which is rly difficult i find it so hard to admit#and i have a complicated mental block where i need the other person to naturally bring it up which very very rarely ever happens#idk just an atmosphere of safety yknow. i think its intentional touch that specifically makes me panic bc im usually fine w like-#bustling crowds or even expected social rules like handshakes at interviews. bc its not like they're Trying To Touch Me its just rote idk#hopefully eventually ill reach a place where im able to unpack it and reduce its severity bc man sometimes its fucking heartbreaking to me#bc i do genuinely really like physical contact im an incredibly physical person its my main way of interacting w the world#and the way having to force myself to avoid it meshes w my rsd too augh.... its a clusterfuck#even just having one person im completely comfortable with. maaaaan.#almost makes me miss my ex. at least i was mostly cool around them#god its sucked lately ive been having weird vivid dreams related to it. but whatever its so far down my list of problems to prioritize#and at least i dont get it w my familys dog so i can cuddle her :^) i miss her i cant wait to see her next month :D#anywayyyy thats enough im so tired goodnight every1...#.diaries
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Cedric's wig arrived unexpectedly early so I threw together the laziest costest ever -- I'm pretty happy with the results! The wig slides around a lot (it's heavy and not a lacefront) but also I didn't gel my hairline like I would if I was wearing it properly; the gel + the wig clips it has should be enough to keep it secured.
I'm planning to take him out for a bookstore photoshoot as a test run before SakCon ^^ Ideally, I'd love a photoshoot with an Orube but... does anyone even cosplay her? T_T
#lord cedric#it's okay i'll just dream#maybe write fanfic#i'm super happy to finally be cosplaying him though; it only took me four years to get this together for absolutely no reason#also in looking up ref photos for him -- i'd forgotten how much he smiles!! like genuinely smiles!#i feel like it's so rare for his character type#... it's gonna be a challenge for me#i can smirk no problem but i rarely smile; that third photo is my best attempt lmao#(also when i ordered this wig i was hoping it could also function as annatar's and i'm extremely pleased with the color!#my plan was a success. i love multi-use cosplay items)#cosplay#hira cosplays cedric
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my coworker always calls me babygirl and shes been doing so for like a week or 2 now so this guy started doing it as well today n he was like ‘you enjoy when i call you that dont you’ in like a joking manner but then this other guy hes soooo my type im going insane was like ‘it fits tho its cute isnt it’ n omg i was ready to drop my panties right then n there for both of them
#stop this madness#she then joked that i might dream of him if he keeps calling me that n he was like ‘thats a good thing no?’#☆ ; dear diary ?#idk theres 3 guys at my work who are sooo my type it drives me insane why are all of my coworkers so fine#pretty men are so rare#wHERED MY BOSS FIND THESE MFS#need to mention that not ALL all of them#but like most of them#n its nOT helpful at ALL that they all treat my like their little princess just shoot mr#me** me**#[i enjoy this please never stop]#everyone except one of my bosses#i feel like he has a personal problem w me#i never even did anything 🚬🚬
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Hi dear donors ! ❤️
I would like to extend my thank and gratitude for the support you have been offering over the last eleven months. ❤️☺️
My family and I have been suffering and going through the hardest days we have ever experienced in our life . Things are very hard to get and and sometimes unattainable.😭😓
Our sufferings and hardship started on the first days of the war when all our possessions were completely destroyed and burned. We have become displaced and homeless , finding ourselves in a small tent in streets with no means of life. We lack every single necessary thing of life; food, water, hygiene essentials, and other necessities have become scarce and rare.
A photo taken to show how incredibly harsh our life has become after the war. We are struggling and facing lots of barriers to obtain the simplest necessities for living. Everything single thing is a complete story.
You can't imagine what difficulties we have been going through all these days of war. No cooking gas , nor cooking tools exist . We struggle to prepare a small meal of food.
No bakeries are available. Everything seems a miracle and unbelievable.😭 The war has stolen our joy and smile, leaving us busy thinking only of staying safe and alive. Our future has gone with the wind and our kids lost their dreams and ambitions.
This is a part of burying the dead. We also face some problems in the process of buying our dead people as no place is there for the family. Tombs aren't enough for the number of people living on a small spot of land.
A photo taken for the morning queue of filling our gallons with drink water. We wait hours to get some water for drink. Our life is full of tragedy and sadness.
Our sufferings and hardship started on the first days of the war when all our possessions were completely destroyed and burned. We have become displaced and homeless , finding ourselves in a small tent in streets with no means of life. We lack every single necessary thing of life; food, water, hygiene essentials, and other necessities have become scarce and rare.
A photo taken to show how incredibly harsh our life has become after the war. We are struggling and facing lots of barriers to obtain the simplest necessities for living. Everything single thing is a complete story.
So I am asking you generous donors to help me find safety and stability for my family through your generous donations whatever you can or through your shares of my messages and reposting them to help reach the ultimate goal sooner.
Yours.
YOURS
#el shab hussein#nabulsi#sar soor#90 ghost#ibtisams#free gaza#gaza genocide#gazaunderattack#gaza#gaza strip#free palestine#politics#save palestine
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Having absolutely soulcrushing & heartbreaking dreams lately
#i rarely dream but yooo i cant do this#u ever wake up crying???#not fun#not fun at all#gotta stop shoving my feelings into a little locked box huh#not my subconscious making me deal with my real life problems now#so rude
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mojo dojo casa house
Howdy folks! Sorry for the delay, I was, uhhhh covering the Tour de France. Anyway, I'm back in Chicago which means this blog has returned to the Chicago suburbs. I'm sure you've all seen Barbie at this point so this 2019 not-so-dream house will come as a pleasant (?) surprise.
Yeah. So this $2.4 million, 7 bed, 8.5+ bath house is over 15,000 square feet and let me be frank: that square footage is not allocated in any kind of efficient or rational manner. It's just kind of there, like a suburban Ramada Inn banquet hall. You think that by reading this you are prepared for this, but no, you are not.
Scale (especially the human one) is unfathomable to the people who built this house. They must have some kind of rare spatial reasoning problem where they perceive themselves to be the size of at least a sedan, maybe a small aircraft. Also as you can see they only know of the existence of a single color.
Ok, but if you were eating a single bowl of cereal alone where would you sit? Personally I am a head of the table type person but I understand that others might be more discreet.
It is undeniable that they put the "great" in great room. You could race bicycles in here. Do roller derby. If you gave this space to three anarchists you would have a functioning bookshop and small press in about a week.
The island bit is so funny. It's literally so far away it's hard to get them in the same image. It is the most functionally useless space ever. You need to walk half a mile to get from the island to the sink or stove.
Of course, every McMansion has a room just for television (if not more than one room) and yet this house fails even to execute that in a way that matters. Honestly impressive.
The rug placement here is physical comedy. Like, they know they messed up.
Bling had a weird second incarnation in the 2010s HomeGoods scene. Few talk about this.
Honestly I think they should have scrapped all of this and built a bowling alley or maybe a hockey rink. Basketball court. A space this grand is wasted on sports of the table variety.
You would also think that seeing the rear exterior of this house would help to rationalize how it's planned but:
Not really.
Anyways, thanks for coming along for another edition of McMansion Hell. I'll be back to regular posting schedule now that the summer is over so keep your eyes peeled for more of the greatest houses to ever exist. Be sure to check the Patreon for today's bonus posts.
Also P.S. - I'm the architecture critic for The Nation now, so check that out, too!
If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.
Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar, because media work is especially recession-vulnerable.
#architecture#design#mcmansion#mcmansions#ugly houses#interior design#bad architecture#2010s#2019#Illinois
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wish you’d ask me (one-shot)
pairing zach maclaren x female reader
summary you and your friend zach are on your way to a weekend retreat when suddenly, you wake up in the hospital with a concussion. zach is relieved you’re okay, until he realizes that you’re under the impression that he’s your boyfriend.
tags plot-flip of ‘the other zoey’ where reader loses her memory. college setting. friends to lovers. mutual pining. mentioned song is ‘red love’ by dream ivory (zach gives indie soft boy yfm). angst and fluff. no smut. hugs to my zach girlies @juniebugg & @nemesyaaa <3 divider credit.
» masterlist
››› friday
“Uh oh,” you mumble.
“What is it?” Zach asks. His gaze is fixed ahead, the snowy road a stretch of glittering white under the afternoon sun. You bring your phone up closer to your face.
“Chase just texted the group,” you explain. “Apparently, the furnace broke.”
“Uh oh,” he echoes.
“Exactly,” you say with a defeated laugh. “What now? Do we cancel? We can’t be out there all weekend with no heat.”
Zach checks the time on his dashboard to see you have thirty minutes left of the drive to the cabin you rented with your friends. The four of them are already there, waiting for you two.
“Nevermind,” you say. “Esha texted. The only thing broken is Chase’s sense of humor. I’m this close to throwing him outside and locking the door.”
You hold up your hand in a pinching motion.
“And she used this emoji,” you explain with a giggle.
Zach’s eyes drift to you, an endeared smile pulling on his lips.
“Appreciate the demonstration,” he says.
He reaches a red light and forces himself not to stare at you. He’s afraid that one day, his feelings for you will refuse to stay stuck in his heart and he’ll just blurt them out.
The past hour in the car with you has been a dream. Really, any time he spends with you is a dream. You’re usually all together as a group, so he cherishes the rare moments he gets to be alone with you.
He knows admitting his feelings to you comes with the risk of losing your friendship and fracturing the bond you both have in the group. But sometimes, it’s like keeping them in actually physically hurts.
“What’s your favorite emoji?” you ask. “No, wait.” You think back to the texts you’ve exchanged over the many months you’ve been friends. “I already know. It’s the guy running. Your version of saying on my way.”
“It’s efficient,” he replies with a shrug.
“Okay, so, what’s your second favorite emoji?” you say.
Zach laughs heartily and says, “You never run out of questions.”
“Do you mean that in a ‘you’re so much fun’ way,” you ask, “or in a ‘I’m too nice to say it, but shut up’ way?”
“Please don’t shut up,” he says in a rush. “You’re keeping me entertained.”
“It’s the least I can do after you stayed back for me.”
You were the only person in your friend group who had a class you couldn’t miss today. Zach offered to leave for the cabin with you, saying he had an important essay he wanted to finish this morning anyway, while everyone else drove up last night.
He had already finished that essay two days ago.
“It was no problem,” he replies. He means it. Nothing is too difficult for him if it’s for you.
“I’ll still pay you back,” you say. You stifle a yawn, fighting off the fatigue that’s been melting into you for the past hour. “What can I get you? What do you want most in the world?”
Zach chews on his bottom lip, pretending to think, when really, what he wants most in the world is sitting in his passenger seat, the prettiest and kindest girl he’s ever known, her gaze burning into him in his peripheral vision.
“A life-changing cup of hot cocoa,” he replies.
“Big ask, but you got it,” you agree with a laugh. “You can enjoy it in your grandpa pj’s.”
Zach smirks. A few nights ago, on a group video call, you amusedly pointed out the plaid button-up he was wearing in bed.
“They’re comfortable,” he counters.
“They’re still pajamas an old man would wear,” you tease. Your phone buzzes in your lap. “It’s Chase. Esha ruined my prank. Scaring us that we’ll freeze? What kind of prank is that?”
“He’s ridiculous,” Zach laughs.
The six of you met back when you were put together for a group project. You all got along so well that you started hanging out outside of class. Zach has grown to deeply care for everyone in the group. You, especially.
“I’ve been playing my music this whole ride,” you realize. “It’s only fair that you get to choose the songs for the last stretch.”
“It’s okay,” he reassures. “You’re a good dj.”
“For once in your life, stop being so nice and just play what you want,” you tease. “Since your phone is the GPS, we can keep using mine. Do you have any public playlists?”
He scratches his cheek, nerves filling his chest.
“You’ll make fun of me,” he says.
“Zachary,” you gasp. “When have I ever made fun of you?”
“Like, a minute ago.”
“Other than that.”
“Five minutes ago?”
You laugh again and Zach swears it’s the nicest sound he’s ever heard. Nicer than any song either of you could put on.
“My music is either workout stuff or just… sappy,” he admits.
“I’d expect nothing less,” you respond with a chuckle. “No pressure, but I promise, I won’t judge.”
He breathes a laugh and tells you his username, praying he can keep a straight face if the songs he listens to when he’s thinking about you play.
You tap on the playlist he titled ‘Relaxing’ and sink back in your seat as you gaze out the window. The glass is a little fogged, the world looking like it was dusted with powdered sugar.
The gentle guitar spills out of the speakers as your eyes travel over snow-covered peaks of evergreens that line the road.
Your heart pulls once you hear the song’s first lines, curious if Zach relates to them.
I’m the type of guy, trying not to fight
Not so perfect but I always try to bring the light
He’s easygoing and optimistic – that much is true. But not so perfect? If you had the chance, you’d tell him how perfect he is, over and over again.
Your eyes slowly flutter shut, lulled by the melody. You tell yourself not to daydream about the man sitting next to you when you’re certain he doesn’t feel the same way you do, but it’s easier said than done.
You can’t help it. The longer you’re Zach’s friend, the more you have to yearn for. You’re convinced he has the purest heart you’ve ever known.
But through the conversations you’ve had with your friends about your love lives, you’ve learned that Zach is a romantic, never nervous to pursue a girl he likes. And if he liked you, you’re sure he’d have told you by now.
When you swore Esha and Maggie to secrecy regarding your crush on him, they were confident he feels the same way. You still aren’t.
I don’t wanna feel insecure about a thing
But she makes me feel like I don’t even know what’s happening
Pull me closer and it’s like I forget what was wrong
The thought of pulling Zach closer, of making his insecurities and problems go away makes your stomach twist with warmth.
And then, you’re lying in bed with him, cocooned in a fluffy duvet, your hand on his cheek as you gaze at him. Your heart is full, the air buzzing with love. He worryingly asks you if you slept enough. You nod and he tells you how beautiful you are and you press your lips on his.
Sudden stillness stirs you awake. You meet his sweet blue eyes.
Oh. You fell asleep. And you had a dream about Zach so tender that your heart is still racing, your lips tingling from the kisses he never even gave you.
“Did we make it?” you murmur, tumbling back into reality, grounding yourself in the fact that you’re in a parked car, not a cozy bed.
“Not yet,” Zach says. “I wanted to make a quick stop. Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
You look through the windshield to see a convenience store sign, the bottom skirted in translucent icicles.
“It’s okay,” you stutter, unbuckling your seatbelt. “It’ll be good to stretch my legs.”
Cold air pricks your cheeks when you step out of the car. Even though Zach has no idea what your subconscious just threw you into, it’s embarrassing to be around him after such an romantic dream.
You round the car and approach the front door, which Zach is holding open for you. In your daze, you realize you forgot your wallet.
“My wallet,” you say in a hush, turning back.
“I’ll cover it,” Zach offers.
But you’re already scurrying to the car. And then, you lose your balance.
.❅❅❅.
The weight in Zach’s stomach is catastrophically heavy.
You’ve been in a confused daze since your fall. And he’s worried sick.
He stands next to you as you sit in bed, blinking slowly. Since he helped pick you up off the icy concrete and drove you to the nearest hospital, you’ve been slowly coming to your senses.
The doctor comes in and asks a few questions. You get the first few right – your full name, your date of birth, your major, your address. All said confidently, even through the fog blocking your mind.
That’s a relief.
But then, you’re not sure what day of the week it is. You can’t tell her what you had for breakfast. And, most confusing of all, when the doctor asks if you know who he is, you say, “Zach. My boyfriend.”
He swallows hard, the word fluttering in his mind. Boyfriend?
The doctor runs a few tests, checking your coordination and reflexes, then offers a sympathetic grimace.
“You have a mild concussion. You’re not showing any serious signs I’m concerned about, but we should do a CT scan just in case.” The doctor looks to Zach. “Can you come with me to help book it?”
He nods, giving you one more worried glance before he trails the doctor out of the room.
After he tucks the appointment card in his wallet, he listens to the doctor’s instructions. Rest. Hydrate. Reduce stress. No screens. Come back if symptoms worsen.
“What if she’s remembering things wrong?” Zach asks. “I… uh, I’m not her boyfriend. We’re just friends.”
“Her memory will likely come back to her in pieces,” the doctor reassures. “It’s normal that things are jumbled. She’ll be fragile for a bit.”
“What do I do? Is it best for her healing if I play along?”
“The less stress on her brain, the better,” she says. “You can calmly tell her what she has wrong or let her believe the minor, harmless things until she’s herself again. I’m sure she’ll be better soon and you won’t even have to correct her.”
Zach’s chest strains in anxiety, worried that he’ll mess something up. The last thing he wants to do is impede your healing by stressing you out.
When he comes back into the room, your eyes light up in a way they never have for him before. He tries not to let it get to him.
“Hey,” you say lazily, gazing at him with adoration. “Is it booked? Can we go now? We’re so late.”
“That’s what you’re worried about?” he says softly. “You’re injured.”
You giggle, stretching your arm out. Hesitatingly, Zach steps closer, letting you warmly hold his hand atop the thin blanket. He feels guilty for enjoying it.
“Did you tell them what happened?” you ask.
“Yeah, I – uh, I…” He begins to stammer as you gently run your fingers over his knuckles. “I should update them, actually.”
He pulls away abruptly, taking his phone out, brows furrowed. A simple touch from you is overwhelming enough, let alone when you’re only doing it because you’re concussed and confused.
You watch him text, his expression tense. He’s always like this, so worried about you. You think back to a few days ago, when he was concerned you didn’t get enough sleep as you lazed in bed together.
“Relax,” you say gently. “She said it was mild, right?”
“Yeah.” Zach keeps his eyes on the screen, unsure of how to tell your friends you’re under the impression you’re dating. “You just need to take it easy. You’ll be back to normal soon.”
.❅❅❅.
You catch up on the group texts you missed after your fall when you settle in Zach’s car. You’re reading the last message, which is Esha saying something about seeing you soon when Zach turns on the engine.
You can’t quite make out the words. Then you realize Zach’s been trying to talk to you.
“What?” you say.
“You shouldn’t look at a screen,” he says gently.
“Right.” You lower your phone. “I can barely read right now anyway.”
“Can you put your seatbelt on?”
“Yes.” You turn, the motion suddenly making you dizzy. Your eyes pinch shut and you hold your head with a pained sigh.
Zach has never been more upset at himself. He’s supposed to be taking care of you. The doctor called you fragile. He’s already messing up.
“Sorry,” he says. “Just relax, okay? I’ll take care of it.”
He leans over, pulling your seatbelt into the buckle. You keep your eyes shut, feeling his forehead brush against your cheek, enjoying the warm, rich fragrance that’s so Zach.
You might not remember everything, but you remember how much you love the way he smells.
“Thanks, baby,” you murmur and plant a kiss on his temple.
Zach’s stomach goes wild with butterflies. Heavy guilt sets in again. He can’t go on like this. It feels wrong to play along.
He pulls back and you look at him past heavy lids.
“We should talk,” he says, “about our friendship.”
He has no idea how to navigate this conversation. The doctor said to correct you calmly. There’s nothing calm about the way his heart is pounding right now.
“We haven’t told them, have we?” you ask. “I can’t remember ever acting like a couple around them. Is that what you mean?”
You think he’s talking about your friendships with the group waiting at the cabin.
This might be the best way to do this.
He’ll let you believe that you’re keeping your relationship under wraps. He’ll avoid any opportunity to be alone with you until your mind is straight again. And eventually, it’ll come to you that you and him aren’t actually together.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “We have to act like we’re just friends in front of them.”
“Why’d we decide to do that again?” you ask.
Zach nervously taps his knee.
“Malek had a really bad breakup,” he explains. “We didn’t want to rub it in his face.”
“Oh, yeah,” you say. The memory comes to you, choppy but clear enough. “Dumped via text. Poor guy.”
He flashes a relieved smile. It’s reassuring that you remember something that happened a week ago.
“Right,” he says. He puts the car in drive. The sooner he gets to the cabin, the sooner he can stop putting on this act. “We should get going.”
.❅❅❅.
Your friends are quiet and reluctant to come too close when you step into the cabin.
“Guys, I’m fine,” you laugh.
“How are you feeling?” Maggie asks, wide-eyed. “Do you remember me?”
“Of course,” you say. “It’s just a headache now.”
“You should sit down,” Zach urges behind you. He puts down the bags he brought in from the car that he refused to let you carry.
“It feels like I’ve been sitting all day,” you say. “Except for the part when I fell.”
“So, we can joke about it?” Chase asks with a grin.
“No,” Zach says. “Too soon.”
You look at him over your shoulder, chuckling.
“I think Zach’s more traumatized than I am,” you say.
“What happened exactly?” Esha asks, waving you in.
You step further into the cabin, struck by the enormous living room windows. They present a stunning view of snowy hills and picturesque cottages under the setting sun.
If it weren’t for the stubborn ache pulsing in your forehead, you’d want to explore more of the cabin. But Zach’s right. You should sit down. That walk from the car was enough exercise. You’re already dizzy again.
“It’s my fault,” Zach replies. “I stopped at some random store and that’s where she fell.”
You meet his eyes, heart breaking at the pained expression on his face. You wish you weren’t putting on a farce right now, because if you could do what you wanted, you’d pull him into a hug.
“It’s not your fault I don’t know how to walk,” you joke.
“You fell in the store?” Chase asks.
“Parking lot,” you say. “To get my wallet. Even though Zach said I didn’t need to. So, technically, it’s on me.”
You can tell by the look on his face that he’s not convinced. He’s blaming himself for this entirely.
You sit down for dinner, downing the water Zach encouraged you to drink, while he catches everyone up on how to help support your healing process.
“How do you know all this?” Maggie asks. “Concussions from playing soccer?”
“I asked the doctor,” he clarifies.
When you’re sure nobody’s looking, you reassuringly squeeze his knee under the table. He tenses up under your touch.
.❅❅❅.
After dinner, you’re bundled up in a blanket on the plush living room couch as flames crackle in the stone fireplace.
Nobody has allowed you to lift a finger. Every chore, down to putting away your dinner plate, has been taken over by one of your friends encouraging you to rest.
Zach’s on the other end of the sectional, tapping his fingers against the armrest. You remember that it’s something he does when he’s nervous. Why is he nervous? And why does he have to be so far away? You’re pretending to be just friends, but simply sitting next to you wouldn’t be suspicious, would it?
You know you’re not yourself. Your thoughts are muddy and patchy, but you’re already feeling much better than you did at the hospital because another memory suddenly blooms in your mind.
“Hot cocoa,” you say. Five heads turn to look at you as you point at Zach. “I owe you hot cocoa for staying back to drive me.”
“Yeah,” Zach says, his dimpled grin making your heart skip. “Your memories are coming back.”
You nod with a bright smile. At this moment, as he gazes at you from across the room, he realizes just how much he worries about you, he thinks of the kiss you left on his skin, and he accepts that he was wrong.
He’s not falling for you – he’s already in deep, completely enamored with no hope of pulling himself out.
.❅❅❅.
After you brush your teeth, you pad downstairs to the kitchen before you head to sleep in the bedroom you’re sharing with the girls.
You’re walking back through the dimly lit house when you hear the floorboards creak under someone’s weight. Zach rounds the corner at the bottom of the staircase.
“Hi,” you say sweetly. He towers over you and your eyes drift down to the red and black flannel he’s wearing. “The famous grandpa pj’s.”
“Yeah,” he laughs, happy you remember yet another thing.
His chest twists, conflicted because he enjoys the familiar comfort of being alone with you, but is also anxious in case you still have the wrong idea about the nature of your relationship.
“Proud of me for hydrating?” you ask, holding up the cup of water you just got for yourself.
“Very proud.” He walks past you. “Sleep well.”
You’re confused. It’s unlike him. You remember enough to know he’s typically kind and talkative.
“Hey,” you say, turning to look at him. He meets your gaze, lips slightly parted, visibly tense. “What’s wrong? You don’t really blame yourself, do you? I’m fine.”
His lips curl into a frown. He’s not convinced.
“Please don’t worry,” you continue softly, stepping towards him. “You’ve been taking such good care of me. You’re the best friend a concussed girl could have.”
Friend. Does that mean you no longer think he’s your boyfriend? Have you forgotten about the whole thing entirely?
Before he can ask to be sure, he realizes you were being playful with the word, because you quickly look over your shoulder, then unexpectedly pop up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips.
“I made sure nobody saw,” you say in an amused whisper. “Good night.”
You rush upstairs, an electric current zipping through you even though you’ve kissed him a million times before.
Zach is standing still in the hallway, heart hammering, blood running hot. He’s lost count of how many times he daydreamed about kissing you. Now, he felt your lips against his for real, and his mind and body are a jumbled mess.
There’s a chance you like him back and now feel uninhibited to offer him the affection you’ve always wanted to give him. Or you’re just confused and you’ll be horrified to learn that he let you believe you’re dating when you were dazed and vulnerable.
If your memory isn’t solid by tomorrow, he’ll have to correct it himself. And he can only hope he won’t ruin your friendship in the process.
››› saturday
You’re walking towards the kitchen, the taste of toothpaste fresh on your tongue. You’re glad you woke up with a much clearer mind. You remember more of yesterday; it’s almost a complete picture in your head.
Zach and Malek are sitting at the breakfast table, cradling mugs of coffee. Zach’s eyes dart away from yours the moment he sees you. It makes your heart sink.
“Hi,” you say to them.
“Morning,” Malek replies.
“Feeling better?” Zach asks.
“Headache’s gone,” you answer. He nods, but doesn’t look at you again.
He’s been acting weird and you’re not sure if it’s just guilt over your fall. The memory of you lying in bed with him a few days ago is so clear. What happened between then and yesterday?
You must have had a fight that you’re forgetting about. You’re sure Zach would be selfless enough to pretend that you’re on good terms while you’re concussed, but he can’t hide that he’s on edge.
“Bad sleep?” you ask, looking down at his drink. “You only drink coffee when you’re desperate.”
His eyes finally find yours again, softening when they do. It’s the early morning and he’s wearing sweats and a hoodie and his dark honey hair is a tousled mess, yet he still looks so handsome and it feels unfair to not be able to kiss him.
“You remember that, too,” he says with relief. “Anything else come up?”
“Nothing that feels important,” you admit with a shrug. Disappointment flashes over his features and you chew on your lip in saddened confusion.
Zach hates seeing the hurt on your face. He needs to have this conversation now and get it over with.
“Do you want to get some fresh air?” he asks.
“That sounds nice,” you answer.
“You’re insane,” Malek says. “It’s like the North Pole out there.”
“Exactly,” you reply with a laugh. “It makes you appreciate being inside even more.”
.❅❅❅.
You stand side-by-side on the snow-covered balcony leading out to the back of the cabin, bundled up in your coats, hats, and mittens.
“It’s so pretty out here,” you whisper, gazing out at the frozen lake hugged by patches of trees.
“It is,” Zach says. His breath comes out in a small puff of fog as he ruminates over how to tell you what he needs to tell you.
“All that ice,” you mumble, “and so many different ways to fall on it.”
He cracks a smile.
“Still too soon to joke about it,” he says.
“Even I don’t get a free pass?” you chuckle.
You reach for his hand, feeling his warmth through your mittens. Zach clears his throat and pulls out of your grasp.
“There’s something I haven’t told you,” he begins. His cheeks redden. “And please hear me out. I was doing what I thought was–”
The sound of the door sliding open interrupts him. You both look back to see Malek ambling out onto the balcony with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets.
“Maybe you guys are onto something,” he says. “We didn’t come all the way out here not to appreciate the views, right?”
He stands between you two and despite the tension, you and Zach share a smile, knowingly both irritated yet amused at your friend’s clueless intrusion.
.❅❅❅.
When you head back inside, everyone else has woken up, loudly chattering in the kitchen. You’re pulled into a conversation with Esha and Maggie while Chase asks Zach to help him with starting the fire.
It’s hard to absorb the words your friends are saying after the way you and Zach left things a few minutes ago.
“Can someone turn on some music?” Maggie eventually asks. “I left my phone upstairs.”
“Sure,” you offer.
“No screens!” Esha shouts.
“It’ll just be for a second,” you laugh. You connect to the speaker. When you realize you have an unfamiliar playlist open, you curiously scroll through the songs.
Zach comes back into the kitchen, dusting off his hands.
You tap on the first track in the playlist. A slow, gentle song buzzes from the living room.
Then, it hits you like a wave.
This song played in his car on the way here. You dozed off listening to it. You woke up from a dream.
A dream.
Zach isn’t your boyfriend. He never was.
The puzzle pieces have finally snapped together, and the picture isn’t pretty.
You stare at him, the realization harsh and unsettling. The possibility of a fight you forgot about had run through your head, but the fact that you were never even together is startling.
Zach can see it immediately, the discomfort on your face. He thought he wanted you to figure it out on your own. Now that you have, he regrets not telling you the truth right away.
“Uh, my… phone is about to die,” you stammer, stopping the song. “Be right back.”
You leave the room, and while everyone else carries on conversation, Zach’s heart is in his stomach. He messed up. Possibly irreversibly.
He trails behind you, whispering your name as you rush up the stairs. You turn to face him once you reach your bedroom, nearly breathless.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, the embarrassment wringing out your insides.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “Can you sit down? You need to take it easy.”
“Zach,” you assert. He sighs in worry.
“I was about to tell you outside, but then we got interrupted.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me right away?” you say. “I… oh, my God. I kissed you last night.”
Zach rakes his hand through his hair as you step back and exhale in disbelief.
“The doctor said I shouldn’t stress you out,” he explains. “I didn’t want to confuse you or embarrass you–”
“Too late,” you interrupt with a note of sadness.
It’s a punch to Zach’s gut seeing you so upset because of something he did. He’d actually prefer a real punch right now. At least then, he’d know the pain will fade. The guilt filling his chest feels like it’ll be there forever.
“I – I was doing what I thought was best,” he says. “She said you were fragile and it freaked me out and I promise, the last thing I want to do is upset you or mess with your healing.”
You can see that he’s in distress, but so are you. You spilled your heart out to him, you touched and kissed him while under the impression that you shared a love that wasn’t there.
“Please don’t think I’m a creep or something – I just – I honestly didn’t expect that kiss,” he admits. “I would’ve stopped it if I did.”
You have to look away. Why would he have stopped it? Because you weren’t in your right mind? Or because he wouldn’t ever want you to kiss him?
You hope he has it in him to at least admit if he feels anything for you. This is the time to do it after you embarrassed yourself so immensely. You stare down at the floor, silently praying that he’ll reassure you.
Zach’s throat tightens. Seeing you like this makes his shame so overpowering that his eyes start to burn with tears.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats. He steps out of the room before you can see him cry. He doesn’t want to make this about him. He wants to give you space.
You’re left standing alone in the silence, your heart cracked right down the middle.
.❅❅❅.
Zach doesn’t let his gaze linger on you for the rest of the day. He’s terrified he’ll have to face his fear of losing you.
What’ll life look like without you? You met and then all of a sudden, you became a ray of light in his world, always able to make him smile, always on his mind. He can’t stomach making you uncomfortable. You looked so disgusted that he went along with a lie.
After dinner, you’re all sitting in the living room and helping Maggie set up a board game. That’s when Zach finally allows himself to look at you.
You’re sitting in front of the fireplace, quietly reading the instructions to yourself, lips moving with the words. Worrisome curiosity gnaws at him, eager to find out if your mind is clear again.
“Does reading still feel weird or is it okay now?” he asks you from across the room.
“Oh – yeah,” you say, caught off guard. You haven’t spoken since your fight this morning. “It’s okay now.”
“Where have you been, MacLaren?” Maggie laughs. “We established she’s back to normal like three hours ago.”
“Do we need to check your head?” Chase jokes.
Zach forces a laugh. He’s been too lost in his thoughts to absorb himself in the conversations happening around him all day. The possibility of making you uncomfortable simply by being in the same room as you is too heavy to ignore at this point.
“Maybe,” he says. “I should probably turn in.”
“What?” Malek shouts. “I was going to kick your ass at… what’s this game called again?”
“You can kick my ass later,” Zach mumbles, standing up. “Sorry, guys.”
“Lame,” Maggie sighs.
You keep your gaze on him as he leaves the room, but his eyes stay on the floor the entire time.
.❅❅❅.
You gently knock on the boys’ bedroom door, listening to your friends’ enthusiastic competition-fuelled conversations echoing from downstairs.
It’s been fifteen minutes since you started the board game and two since you purposely knocked yourself out of it. You excused yourself to take a shower, but your intention was always to come up and talk to Zach. Even though you’d left things so tense, you need to make sure of one thing.
“Yeah?” His voice on the other side of the door is muffled. You step into the dark room, the hallway light spilling in.
“It’s me,” you whisper into the dimness. “Sorry. You’re not sleeping, are you?”
“No. I can’t,” he admits. You hear a mattress creak. A light turns on with a click. Zach’s standing by a lamp, almost looking wounded.
You step inside, shutting the door behind you, nervous as you settle on the edge of one of the beds. He sits on another bed and faces you.
“I don’t think you’re a creep,” you say. “I just had to make sure you know that, okay?”
Zach lets out a shaky sigh. He purses his lips, nodding slowly, and when you see a shine pool over his eyes, you still.
“Thanks,” he breathes. “I hated the idea of you thinking I took advantage of you or something and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to be around me if you–”
“What? Zach, no. No way.”
When he quietly sniffles, you’re certain he’s holding back tears. You knew he was sensitive, but witnessing him cry over the possibility of making you uncomfortable stings. Especially since he surely felt awkward with you touching him and kissing him, and still played along for you.
He doesn’t deserve to feel like this. You shuffle over, sitting next to him on his bed.
“Listen, I was just really embarrassed,” you say, desperate to console him. “I still am, to be honest.”
“It’s okay,” he says. “You don’t have to be. You were injured.”
“Yeah, but… how would you feel if you ran around kissing me just for me to tell you I never wanted you to?”
Zach’s jaw tenses. Is that what you think? That he doesn't want to kiss you? God, he’d spend all day kissing you if you let him.
“I’ve been thinking about it,” you continue, “and I get why you went along with it. I know you were just looking out for me. Sorry that I got so upset.”
“Please don’t be sorry,” he says. “I’m the one who should apologize.”
“We’ll never agree on this,” you say with a quiet laugh. “We’re good, okay? I’m gonna go take a shower and if you’re up for it, you should go downstairs. I’ll come down after and make you that cocoa I promised.”
Zach laughs, genuine and warm, and it makes your heart feel like it’s floating.
“Cool,” he says.
“Cool,” you echo. You stand up, almost out the door when he stops you.
“Hey, can you…”
“What?” you ask.
“Just… be careful in the shower. Don’t slip.”
“I’ll be fine. Jeez, you fall on your head one time,” you quip. He laughs. And his smile doesn’t fade for a while after you leave the room.
.❅❅❅.
You’ve just washed the soap off your skin and are about to turn the water off when you’re plunged into darkness. Standing in the tub, naked, completely blind.
For a moment, you’re afraid this is a symptom of your concussion. But then you realize the power must have gone out. You feel for the tile wall, pushing the shower curtain to the side, more nervous to fall than you’d normally be.
“Hey, you okay in there?” Zach asks through the door. He’s nearly breathless. As soon as the lights went out, he raced up the stairs in worry, using his phone flashlight as a guide.
“Yeah,” you call. “Did the power go out?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Do you need any help or anything? I can get Esha or Maggie.”
You smile to yourself in the dark, not surprised that he’s being so considerate of your comfort. You feel for the robe you left on the counter and wrap yourself in its warmth, then open the door.
Zach’s standing in the hallway, phone flashlight aimed at the floor, concern etched into his face.
“Do we know what happened?” you ask.
Seeing you fresh out the shower feels oddly vulnerable. This is an intimate state for him to witness you in, but you’re not nervous at all, and it’s reassuring to have the hard proof that you’re not uncomfortable around him.
“I think it’s the wind,” he says. “It must have knocked a power line down.”
“Uh oh,” you reply in same way you did when Chase texted about the furnace breaking. He chuckles. At least he can find comfort in the fact that you really do remember everything.
“I’ll get dressed and meet you down there,” you say. “Thanks for checking on me.”
“Of course.”
The lights are still out when you come downstairs in your pajamas. Your friends are huddled around the fire, amber lights and gray shadows casting over their faces and on the walls. The crescent moon gleams in the cloudy sky past the massive windows.
“Were you at least at the end of your shower?” Esha asks with a defeated laugh.
“Yeah,” you say. “I was just about to get out when the room went dark. I was scared my concussion came back.”
“That’d be great timing,” Esha jokes.
“Right? While I’m naked in a tub,” you laugh, settling on the floor next to her. Zach is glad nobody’s looking at him right now, because his cheeks are burning at the mention of you being naked. “Did anyone message the owner?”
“Yeah,” Maggie says. “He’s not answering, but I don’t know what he could even do. I checked online and the whole grid is out. I think we’ll just have to wait it out.”
“Chase cursed us,” Esha says.
“How is this my fault?” he asks.
“You tempted fate with your stupid joke yesterday,” she replies. “The furnace broke. Now everything is broken. Are you happy?”
“Honestly, thrilled,” he replies. “Pretty cool to have the power to control the weather.”
You continue to chat with your friends, feeling the temperature in the cabin slowly fall. Before you know it, it’s been half an hour and the power still isn’t back on. You’re shaking from the cold.
Zach notices the way you’re curled up, arms wrapped around your legs, surely colder than everyone else since you just showered.
“We should keep the fire going,” he says. “I don’t think the power will come back on any time soon.”
“What happened to the annoying optimism we’ve grown to know and love?” Maggie asks.
“I told you guys, I traumatized him when I fell yesterday,” you say. “I broke my brain and his.”
“No offense, but I probably would’ve laughed my ass off if I saw you fall like that,” Chase jokes.
“That’s why I’m glad I was with Zach,” you retort. He smirks to himself as he builds the fire, hoping it’ll radiate more heat for you soon. “I bet when my memory was messed up, you would’ve convinced me that I owed you money or something.”
“Shit,” Chase says. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Shameless,” Esha mutters. “Guys, I think we’re going to have to sleep here in front of the fire. I bet the bedrooms are freezing.”
“Aw, it’ll be like a real sleepover,” Maggie says excitedly. “Let’s do it.”
You’re all in a fit of laughter as you bring mattresses and pillows and blankets down the stairs, already sure that this is going to be a cherished memory. What happened yesterday has given you a new perspective on life, a realization that something as simple as your memory should be appreciated.
And it’s also made your crush on Zach even deeper. He’s done nothing but look out for you, down to pretending to be your boyfriend to ease you into your healing. Now that the embarrassment has faded, you feel guilty that you were ever upset at him.
The six of you lie in front of the crackling fire, wrapped up in duvets as the wind howls outside. You’re closest to Zach, your back inches away from his chest. As you gaze at the flames, you think about the way his lips felt on yours last night.
No wonder you felt so stunned after kissing him. Your mind didn’t know it was your first kiss, but your body did. The thought that it was also your last kiss makes your stomach sink. He’s had every opportunity to tell you if he likes you. He hasn’t. You’re just a friend to him and nothing more.
“Who wants to bet on when the power’s going to be back on?” Malek asks. You hear the click of him unlocking his phone. “It’s 11:30 now. I don’t…”
He suddenly stops talking.
“Did he die? I’m too tired to turn around and check,” Esha says.
“My ex texted me,” Malek says.
“Don’t fall into the trap, man,” Chase says. “What’s done is done.”
“What’s it say?” Zach asks. He stares at you as you lie in front of him, backlit by the fire.
“She’s apologizing,” Malek says. “She wants to get back together.”
“No,” Maggie says sternly. “She dumped you over text, dude.”
You listen to your friends chat, your eyelids growing heavy. Admittedly, you’re worried you’ll dream of Zach again. Having his heart in a delusion just to wake up and realize it’s not really yours hurts too much.
You shuffle your feet to get comfortable, accidentally bumping Zach.
“Sorry,” you whisper over your shoulder. “Was that your kicking foot?”
“Yeah,” Zach replies. “You just blew my entire season.”
You giggle quietly, tightening your blanket around you. You wish you could hold on to a shred of hope that eventually, your feelings for him will fade. The sinking feeling in your gut tells you that’ll never happen.
.❅❅❅.
A harsh droning pulls you out of your sleep. Your eyes squeeze shut, then flicker open when you realize someone is snoring. Loudly.
“Who is that?” Esha whispers into the pitch dark. The fire must have died down.
“Malek,” Chase mutters. “He sounds like a fucking dragon.”
“Malek,” Esha whines. His snoring suddenly stops and you figure she must have kicked him awake.
You chuckle to yourself, gently shuffling in place. That’s when you realize you’re up against a warm, firm surface, your nose brushing against the comforting fragrance you love so much.
You’re cuddled up to Zach. You pull back an inch, your entire body tense.
“How’d I get here?” you try to joke in a whisper. “Sorry.”
“Stay,” he mumbles sleepily. He pulls you in by your hip, squeezing gently in his daze. Your heart thrums and you obey, giving into what you want most.
››› sunday
You can feel the brightness of the sun behind your eyelids. The air isn’t cold. The furnace is buzzing. The power is back on.
You gain your bearings and slowly sit up. Everyone else is still asleep. You smile in admiration as you look at your sleeping friends. You love them all so much. You turn to see Zach, his lips in a cute pout, and you accept the fact that you love him, too, in a deeper way.
Friends. You’re friends. You’ll keep telling yourself that until your heart believes it.
You quietly make your way to the kitchen, determined to cook a big breakfast for everyone. Five minutes pass before Maggie walks in with a tired smile, commenting that something smells good.
“Sit down,” you invite her. “Coffee? Tea? I’m making a thank-you breakfast.”
“What for?” she asks.
“You all took such good care of me,” you say.
“Yeah, because Zach basically threatened us to when you first got here,” she laughs. “I’ve never seen him so intense. Last night, when the power went out? He booked it upstairs to find you. He’s been so worried about you.”
“Yeah, I think he still feels responsible for me falling,” you say.
She sits up to look over the wall into the hallway to check that the coast is clear, then waves you closer. You turn off the range and sit next to her.
“I think it’s more than that,” she says.
“No,” you say with a small laugh. “No way.”
.❅❅❅.
Zach shuffles awake, exhaling deeply. He drags his hand over the blanket next to him, looking for you before he realizes that’s what he’s doing.
It felt so nice when you turned towards him in a half-asleep daze, nuzzling your head into his chest. It took him a while to fall asleep simply because of how hard his heart was drumming.
He steps over his sleeping friends. Then, he hears a hushed conversation getting louder as he heads down the hallway.
“...think so?” Maggie says.
“No,” you respond. “Okay, I wasn’t going to tell you and Esha until after we got back, but… I was so out of it at the hospital that I thought he was my boyfriend and… he actually went along with it.”
“What?” she says.
You’re talking about him. He’s about to clear his throat to announce himself and pretend like he hasn’t heard anything, but then he hears your next words.
“I know he didn’t want me acting like that with him, but he tolerated it just so I wouldn’t get freaked out when I realized my memory was messed up,” you confess. “He was so awkward about it after. Trust me. He does not like me back.”
Zach slowly steps back towards the living room and goes up the stairs, trying to absorb what he just heard, trying to make sense of the fact that you not only truly think that he doesn’t want your affection, but also that you’re genuinely disappointed about it.
Back. You don’t think he likes you back.
This might just be the happiest he’s ever felt.
.❅❅❅.
You love how pleased your friends look at the breakfast spread you’ve made for them as they trickle into the kitchen.
“It’s a good thing it was so cold overnight,” you announce. “Nothing in the fridge went bad.”
Zach is the last one to come in and your heart, the traitor, skitters when you meet his striking blue eyes. How long until you can look into those eyes and not think about how it feels to be held by him, how it feels to kiss him?
“Sleep well?” you ask to make casual conversation. He settles in the last empty chair at the table.
“Yeah. My old man pajamas are really toasty,” he says.
You nod, skin buzzing. Does he remember cuddling you in the middle of the night? By the way his eyes linger on you, you think he just might, and in this simple, small moment, you feel a pinch of hope that he feels the same way you do.
You glance up at the clock hanging above the table to see it’s just past nine, leaving less than two hours before check-out. You try to enjoy the last little bit you have with your friends before you split up to clean and leave the cabin the way you found it.
.❅❅❅.
The cabin is spotless, the cars are packed up, and you’re hugging your friends goodbye as light snowflakes gently fall from the white sky.
You’ve been giddy with anticipation at the thought of having an hour and a half drive back to campus with Zach, even though he left such a confusing knot in your chest. Despite everything, he’s still a friend you love to spend time with.
“Have a nice drive!” Chase says as he heads towards Esha’s car, raising his brows at Zach.
After breakfast, Chase had asked him to join you two on the ride home to have more space than he would have sharing a backseat with Malek, but Zach apologized and told him he’d rather not.
When Chase insisted he tell him why, Zach didn’t see any reason to keep it in any longer. He admitted to liking you and said he’d finally tell you on the way home.
“Bold,” Chase had said. “And if she doesn’t like you, too? That’ll be like, the most awkward car ride ever.”
“I’ll take the risk,” Zach replied with a smile.
.❅❅❅.
“Wow,” you say as you drive out onto the main road. “I never made you that hot cocoa, did I?”
“You didn’t,” he says, pretending to be deeply displeased.
“Will you ever forgive me?” you play along.
“I’ll need to do some reflecting first,” Zach replies. You laugh, relieved that you two are joking like old times before this past weekend through you for a loop.
“Fair,” you say. You plug your phone into his speaker system. “Let’s see if I can unlock any other memories. And don’t tell me it’s still too soon to joke about it.”
Zach chuckles, cocking his head.
“I’ll let it slide,” he says. “I woke up in a good mood.”
“You’re basically always in a good mood,” you respond.
Zach can understand why you’d think that. It’s because he’s never been in a bad mood around you. Life is bright and easy and rich when you’re around. And it’s been even richer since he overheard what you said this morning.
“We passed a waterfall while you slept on the way up here,” Zach says. “Would you want to make a stop to check out the view?”
“Yeah,” you agree, pushing away the reminder of what you’d dreamt about during that nap. “Sounds cool.”
.❅❅❅.
Crystal blue water rushes down in an endless torrent, crashing down to the surface with a dull roar. You’re in awe of how ethereal the waterfall is, white mist bubbling over the stream bordered by snowy land. The snow is still falling gently, the atmosphere cool but not cold, as if the earth is apologizing for the windstorm last night.
You and Zach stand at a height behind a railing, his car parked a few feet away on the side of the road. He purposely slowed down so your friends would drive far enough ahead to not notice you’d made a stop.
Now that he’s here, he’s painfully nervous. Worst case scenario, you’re not interested in dating him, and it’ll lead to, like Chase said, the most awkward car ride ever. He’s sure the remaining hour journey back to campus would feel like ten hours if this goes wrong.
But he’s always been optimistic and last night as he fell asleep with you in his arms, he thought back to every moment in your friendship when he had a spark of hope that he had a place in your heart like you do in his.
Over the months he’s known you, he got into the habit of trying to dull the spark, reminding himself of how much he had to lose if you didn’t return his feelings.
Deep down, he always knew he’d eventually give in; he has so much love to give you and the thought of keeping it contained when you might want it was getting harder to bear.
You could break his heart if you don’t want him, but it’d break his heart even more if you do and he doesn’t do anything about it.
“Wow,” you say in a whisper, taking a photo of the waterfall with your phone. “I shouldn’t post this, should I? Our friends might be mad that we didn't include them.”
“I think they’ll understand,” Zach replies. “I told Chase… uh…”
You lower your phone, looking up at him, unable to stifle your smirk because of how cute he looks from the way the breeze has messed up his hair. The road behind you is clear and quiet, the mid-morning sun offering mild warmth.
“You told Chase…?” you say.
Zach licks his lips, his mouth gently opening before he finds the words. He shifts to face you, eyes searching your pretty features, heart in his throat.
“I told him I wanted to be alone with you,” he says. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop this morning, I swear… but I… I do like you. Back.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. You look down at the snowy concrete, letting out a nervous chuckle.
“I heard you right… right?” Zach mumbles.
“Back,” you repeat softly, finding the bravery to look back up at him. “Yeah. That’s what I said.”
A sweet, honeyed smile grows on his face. He tilts his head slightly, looking at you the exact way you’d dreamt he would. How you always wanted him to, but convinced yourself he wouldn’t.
“I didn’t tolerate you acting like we were dating,” he says. “I liked it and I felt bad for liking it because it wasn’t real.”
You mirror his smile, your heart full of love and joy and the comfort that he’s been giving you since the day you met him.
“I was just doing what I always wanted to do,” you confess. His eyes glint with endearment as he brings a hand up to gently cup your face.
“I really enjoyed being your pretend boyfriend,” Zach says, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as you look up at him through your lashes. “Can I be your real one now, though?”
You sigh softly, nodding as he stares at you in nothing short of infatuation. He leans closer by a half-inch, silently testing if you’re okay with it.
You close the distance and your lips meet with a sweet, gentle tenderness like they’ve done this before. You pull back, remembering that they have.
“Can we count that as our first kiss?” you say.
“Absolutely,” he chuckles.
››› one week later
You’re stepping out of the kitchen in Zach’s apartment, tightly gripping the tray of six mugs filled with hot cocoa.
“Whoa,” Zach says, quickly standing up from his spot on the floor when you enter the living room. “Careful.”
“Her concussion is gone, man,” Chase says. “You have the test results to prove it. She can handle carrying a tray.”
“He’s helping her because he’s a gentleman,” Esha states. “Do you know what that word means or are you committed to being a caveman forever?”
“Caveman,” he repeats with a grin.
“Don’t give him any,” Esha mutters. “He doesn’t deserve it.”
You laugh as you set the tray down on the coffee table with Zach’s help. You settle in your spot on the couch as Zach sits on the floor in front of you again, tucked in between your legs, the insides of your knees pressed against his shoulders.
“I have to say, I called it,” Maggie says as she gazes between you and Zach with a big smile on her face. “Tell everyone how I called it.”
“You called it,” you say, putting your hands on your boyfriend’s broad shoulders, gently squeezing.
Her eyes dart to Esha and you share a knowing grin. You’d had private conversations about how if you and Zach were always a little obvious, Esha and Chase are the definition of the word.
“Ow,” Malek snips, holding the steaming mug away from his face. “I burned myself.”
“It’s hot cocoa, Malek,” Chase says. “It’s literally in the name.”
“Really good, though,” Malek says, giving you a thumbs up.
“Thanks,” you laugh.
The tray is eventually littered with empty mugs and you stand to clear away the mess, your heart glowing with the feeling it always has when you’re surrounded by your friends.
You’re scrubbing a soapy sponge over a mug when you hear Zach’s voice behind you.
“You don’t have to wash anything.”
You look over your shoulder, smiling.
“It’s okay,” you say. He approaches you, hugging you from behind as you stand at the sink, surrounding you in his warmth as your friends talk a room away.
He always enjoyed moments of privacy with you, but since that day by the waterfall, every second with you is more than perfect.
“So?” you say. “Did you get your wish? Was the cocoa life-changing?”
“Ask me again what you asked on the way up to the cabin,” he murmurs. “What I want most in the world.”
“What do you want most–”
“You,” he interrupts. You laugh breathily as he kisses the side of your neck. “I just couldn’t answer honestly the first time you asked. But it was always you.”
You turn the faucet off and tilt your head back, looking up at the ceiling with a smile on your face as he leaves kisses on your neck and holds you tighter.
It was always him, too.
(the end)
#taking a lil break from my intense dramatic rafe series hehe#zach maclaren and reader#zach maclaren and you#zach maclaren and y/n#zach maclaren blurb#zach maclaren x y/n#zach maclaren x you#zach maclaren x reader#zach maclaren#drew starkey#the other zoey
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